


The Hastur and Ligur cooking show!

by redsprite



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Don't let the description fool you it's all fluff, I think it's time to give a language warning, M/M, aromantic Hastur, background noncon mentioned, but they learned how to do better, for a given value of fluff when demons are involved, it's a bit tricky to pin down for demons, lots of swear words but within the rating I think, mostly aro Ligur I guess, no graphic depictions of violence but mention of them happening in the background, pun intended, rated for language and probably too much use of knives, that was easy to pin down, they're not ace though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsprite/pseuds/redsprite
Summary: Hastur and Ligur have started a cooking channel where they do cooking contests and try to answer viewer questions. Who trashes the kitchen first, looses.
Relationships: Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinScrivener](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinScrivener/gifts).



> Some weeks ago, someone on tumblr gave out a prompt list for aro Good Omens fanfic, I think? I've been looking for it, but I can't find it anymore, but there was a Hastur/Ligur cooking show on the prompt list, and I scribbled down some ideas. They're not ace in this fic, but mostly aro, especially Hastur. 
> 
> These ideas never shaped up to make a complete fic, but when SinScrivener asked for some Hastur/Ligur fluff, I thought I'd just post what I have.
> 
> This is for you, SinScrivener, hope you like it! <3

“Hello viewers!” said Ligur, and both Hastur and Ligur waved into the camera. “We’re Hastur and Ligur, and behind the camera is – what are you calling yourself today?”

“Erica,” came a mumbled response. 

“Erica,” repeated Ligur. “Welcome to our cooking channel where we do cooking contests in other people’s kitchens, with only the ingredients we find, except for the meat, which we bring in ourselves, because people have no taste.

Who damages the kitchen, loses by default. Only damaging contestants is allowed.

Today in episode three, we’re cooking in the kitchen of a guy called Dave. Dave and his wife have a lot of kids to feed, so maybe today we’re in a kitchen that has a lot of food we can work with. But we like a challenge, so who knows what we’ll find. Hastur, you talked to them, what did they want us to make?”

Hastur grinned. “Pasta.”

Ligur instantly deflated and made a face. “Not Italian again. You’ve been cheating, admit it.”

“They’re kids, Ligur. They want pasta, and pizza.”

“I’m not going to give you an easy win this time just because we’re doing Italian again. And the adults?”

“I don’t care what Dave wants. I don’t like him. Reminds me of that asshole from work, you know which one I mean.”

“We’re not talking about work in the kitchen, Hastur, you know the rules.”

“Yeah, let’s not. But the wife is nice. She wants something healthy for the kids, with nutrients."

"What's nutrients?"

"That's some kind of rodent. Maybe we can substitute that with rabbit, the last time we served rodents to kids they called it ‘fried pikachu’ and nearly murdered us, the little shits. And for herself, she asked for dessert with either chocolate or coffee in it. I think you can work with that.”

“I think I do. And I’ll take the pizza, too. Pizza is bread, right? I can make bread. A house full of kids, huh? Better give her some extra rabbit. How many kids do they have?”

“Dunno. I lost count, to be honest.”

“So you don’t know how many portions you’ll need to make? Because you’re making the pasta, I know you want to, and I’m not going to.”

“Portions with kids are easy, because you always make more than you think will fit into them. I’ll just make a mountain of food, until I run out of ingredients. They can have pasta tomorrow, too.”

They started rummaging through the storage cabinets. Ligur had been right, this was a family who had a lot of cooking ingredients. Hastur approved greatly of the spice collection.

Ligur tried to find some yeast.

“How do you know so much about kids? You don’t even like them.”

“That’s not true. I find them a bit dull, they can’t do real damage yet, it’s like they’re puppy humans.”

“Why do these people have everything, but not yeast? You like puppies.”

Hastur happily started gathering ingredients on the kitchen table while Ligur was still looking for things.

“I guess I do because you never stop complaining about how much I like puppies. But human puppies are not my thing. They’re beautiful though. The bone structure, especially. I always get such a rush of delight when I open a grave and see those beautiful, fragile bones.”

“For all our new viewers, Hastur’s an archeologist,” said Erica from behind the camera.

“Or so he claims,” added Ligur, who was now rifling through a box with small packages in it, sniffing each one of them.

Hastur admired the shape of an egg.

“Doctor of archeology.”

“So-called. You’ve never let me see that doctorate of yours, maybe you’ve made it all up.”

“It’s just very boring, and the science isn’t up to date any more. You wouldn’t like it. But if it makes you happy, let’s just call me a professional grave robber instead.”

He pointed to the camera with the egg and grinned. “Remember kids, the difference between fucking around and science is writing everything down. Grave robbing is fine as long as you document every grain of sand you move.”

Ligur moved into the picture. “And remember kids, this is not a channel for kids, you need to stop watching this. Hastur, why are we talking about work again?”

“I don’t know, you brought it up.”

“No, you started talking about opening graves.”

“Because you asked me if I liked kids.”

“Privately, Hastur, not professionally.”

Hastur sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like them, I just don’t get them. You ask them if they want eyeballs on their tagliatelle, and they laugh like you made the greatest joke in the world. Then you ask them if they want their eyeballs fresh or boiled, and they scream. What’s the difference?”

Ligur thought about it. “They probably want them flambeed. I mean, if they like eyeballs, flaming eyeballs will be even better. Boiled eyeballs are kind of boring.”

“You’re right. Boiled is boring. Kids should eat more fresh food.”

“Definitely.”

“Could give them parasites.”

“Worth a shot.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hastur and Ligur were used to fight over the ingredients, but this kitchen had everything indeed, even the yeast eventually was found, so they could plan their meals and start with preparations.

“Now that you’ve explained the recipes, I can ask you some viewer questions,” said Erica with a big smile on her face.

“Ugh, is it going to be about our love life again?” asked Hastur and kneaded the noodle dough extra hard.

Ligur grinned, feeding his beloved yeast, enjoying himself. A squirming Hastur and some controlled decay and fermentation, this was a great episode so far. “Come on, Hastur, you said this is going to be an educational program.”

“Yeah, but I thought educational about cooking. Erica, doesn’t anyone ever ask about the recipes?”

“Not really.”

“I guess I explain them well.”

Ligur spun some of his yeast starter between his fingers before licking them clean. “Or they’re not here for the cooking.”

“It’s a cooking channel.”

“We can do both. Cooking and answering questions.”

“You take the first question then.”

Ligur nodded, wiping his hand on his shirt, and Erica quickly skimmed through the questions on her phone.

“Here’s a question to Ligur: Don’t you mind dating a smoker?”

“We’re not dating.”

“We’ve never been dating,” Hastur jumped in.

“Never had the time.”

“Always better things to do.”

“You bet we have.”

Erica grinned. This sure wasn’t her dream job, but it had its moments. She wasn’t going to explain to them that this was exactly the kind of behaviour that would bring in more questions like that. 

“Next question is for Hastur then. ’What would your ideal romantic date be?’” read Erica and giggled.

“Ideally it wouldn’t happen,” said Hastur. “Not our thing.”

“I don’t know,” said Ligur. “When it’s dark outside, and you take a smoke break, and I join you just to watch you. That’s kind of nice.”

“Yeah, but is it romantic?”

“I don’t know. I don’t watch other guys taking smoke breaks. It’s kind of romantic if you only want to do it with one guy.”

“Really?”

“I think so.”

“Everything I only want to do with you is romantic?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Never thought of myself as the romantic type.”

“See? We’re learning all kinds of things in these cooking shows.”

Erica piped up from behind the camera. “With romantic, I think they mean holding hands and such things.”

Hastur growled disapprovingly. “I don’t know. That doesn’t do a lot for me. Holding hands? I could hold a knife instead, that’d make me happier.”

Ligur nodded. “That’d make me happier too. You’re hot when you’re using a knife.”

Then he grinned. “I’d hold your hand while walking on an icy sidewalk though, so if one of us slips we both eat shit.”

That made Hastur laugh.

+

Hastur had kneaded his pasta dough to his satisfaction, and was now taking a smoke break at the window.

“We still have viewer questions,” said Erica.

Hastur waved the camera away. “I’m taking a break, ask Ligur.”

“Alright. So, here’s one. ‘How did you get the idea for your channel?’”

Ligur smirked. “It was Hastur’s idea. Hastur is in some kind of midlife crisis right now. Wants us to try new things, share interests, that kind of thing. We’ve been together forever, I never thought we’d do any of that, you now, couple shit.”

“It’s good for you,” said Hastur with a grim expression, sucking the life out of his cigarette. “You needed that. We both needed that.”

Ligur gave him a side glance. “I liked what we had. I didn’t miss anything.”

He looked back at the ingredients he was cutting up. “We work most of the time, and we like our work. But then I had one job blow up in my face, and suddenly, he’s like this. Wants to take things further, spend more time with each other. Expand our horizons.”

“And has it worked?” asked Hastur, clearly as a rhetoric question.

“Yes, I guess it has. We’ve seen more things to appreciate about each other. I just don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

“Of course it is.”

“I don’t know, Hastur. Accidents happen. It’s not going to be easier for you next time, if you know me better, or like me more.”

“Less regrets, Ligur, less regrets, that is the whole point. Besides, next time, we’re going out together or not at all.”

Ligur shook his head. They’d had this discussion before, and they were going to have it again. “I don’t mind going into the void headfirst if it keeps you safe. One day, the world won’t need people like me any more. They’ll always need people like you.”

Hastur growled. “This is the kind of bullshit that I have to deal with here.”

He snipped the dog-end of his cigarette out of the window and went to hug Ligur from behind. Ligur hadn’t stopped preparing his food, almost pretended Hastur wasn’t there. But he fit so perfectly against Hastur’s taller shape, in the end he relented and leaned back into the embrace.

“You’re more than just what you can do for others. You’re more than just your work,” said Hastur in a low voice, close to Ligur’s ear. “Even if you’d never lift a finger for anyone in your life anymore, it’d do. You’re enough the way you are.”

“I’m not proud of who I am,” said Ligur, matter-of-factly.

Hastur’s calm voice shifted into a higher, more energetic register. “Because you never look at yourself, not really. You see one thing you don’t like and never look further than that.”

“I see a lot more than one thing.”

“Yeah? So? I see those too, and I’m fine with it, but you’re more than that.”

“There really isn’t that much else.”

Hastur’s embrace was still tight and didn’t let off one bit. “It’s not true. But if you want better things inside you, apart from me that is, then get off your lazy ass and put some in. Like the cooking. You wanted to learn how to cook, and you like yourself when you cook, right? Then get on with it. I said I’d teach you, and I did, right? I’m teaching you all I know about food. And if I have to bash you in the face with a soup ladle to make you remember the difference between rock salt and sea salt, then so be it.”

Ligur hummed. “And you think that’s going to make me like myself more, do you? This is not just an excuse for you to boss me around?”

“You deserve more from life, Ligur, you deserve better. You’re going to have some fucking quality of life, whether you like it or not.”

Ligur sighed and turned his head so he could nozzle Hastur’s face. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“No, you’re not going to. That’s the whole point of this. You get to have this. And that’s it.”

Ligur kissed the edge of Hastur’s mouth.

“What am I supposed to say to that?” he asked, and he really didn’t know.

“Nothing,” said Hastur firmly. “You’re supposed to take it, and you’re supposed to like it.”

“At least that usually works on you.”

“There you have it.”

Ligur resigned himself to his fate and tried to get back to cooking. There was just the problem that Hastur still had a death grip around his ribs and upper arms, and didn’t let him bend forward.

“You have to let go of me or I can’t cook, Hastur.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“I can’t reach the cutting board like this.”

“Ooh, too bad, lost the contest because his arms are too short. Poor Ligur.”

“Hastur, let me go. I’m warning you.”

“Feeling real sorry for you now.”

“You’re going to feel sorry for yourself any moment now if you don’t let go.”

Hastur kissed the side of his head. “Make me. Come on, fight me, trash the kitchen, forfeit the challenge. Let’s have some fun.”

With a movement too quick for the camera to capture, Ligur turned the small vegetable knife so it faced backwards and rammed it into Hastur’s thigh, and from then on it was only a few kicks and punches until he was free.

“I don’t think I need to forfeit the challenge to have fun, Hastur,” he panted, smirking as he watched blood soak Hastur’s trouser leg. “But the quality of my life just went up, so that’s a point for you, I guess.”

Hastur smirked back. “Told you so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read the joke about the icy street on a tumblr called bering-strait, and found it adorable, especially for these two.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and Ligur get harassed by viewer mails for being too cute.  
> Challenge accepted! But what IS cute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Rain! End of pollen season! I'm having humanoid moments every now and again! And my writing has at least progressed to unstructured rambling, so this is what I can post right now.  
> I still have to fight down the impulse to write every cooking show chapter in the right order or do more worldbuilding or anything... but no, not this time! Just some fun in the kitchen!  
> Hope I could give them a lot of cute things that aren't really romantic, and go more in the friendship or sex direction. Also, they probably would try to be romantic if their viewer really hated it but not because they personally liked it ;) Hope that still keeps them within the aro spectrum!

“Hello everyone,” said Hastur and grinned into the camera, “We’re Hastur and Ligur, and behind the camera is...”

“Still Erica.”

“Really? I thought today was an Eric day.”

“I changed my mind. Erica got a very positive response from our viewers.”

“Since when do we care what the viewers want?”

“Hastur, get on with the introduction,” growled Ligur. The last thing they needed was Hastur getting sidetracked. But it was already too late.

“Welcome to our cooking channel where we... do cooking contests in other people’s kitchens, and...” said Hastur slowly. “It’s a challenge where we...”

He stopped and started searching his pockets. “Wait a moment, I wrote that down somewhere.” 

“Nevermind,” said Ligur. “You already said the important parts. We’re cooking, it’s a challenge between the two of us, and we can only use what we find in the kitchen.”

Hastur’s gaze snapped back into focus. He was not giving the intro to Ligur again. 

“Right. Today is episode four and we’re cooking for Doug. He wants ‘Asian’ but says he probably doesn’t have rice in his kitchen, which probably tells you all you need to know about him. So Middle Eastern cuisine it is. If you think you’re up to it, Ligur.”

“You bet I am,” said Ligur with his grimmest expression. “Hastur, I swear you won’t win this time. I don’t care that you learned to cook on your grave robbing tours in Mesopotamia and Megido, I don’t care that you think you know all about lamb and mutton roast just because you know more ways to kill a sheep than there are sheep in the world. Middle Eastern is where bread is FROM and today I’m going to stomp you into the ground with my bread. I’m the Yeast Master in this kitchen.”

“Yeah? You think so? Have you seen that oven? I’d like to see you make decent bread in that. Because I’m going to use that oven pretty much the whole time.”

“No, you’re not, you’re going to spend some time getting your head rammed against the door post, and after that, I think I’ll have lots of time to use the oven.”

“Yeah, damage the door and you’ve lost the challenge,” grinned Hastur. “Who trashes the kitchen, loses. Thinking about giving up already, are you?”

Ligur grabbed him by the knot of his tie, tried to pull him further down without succeeding, and glared at him fiercely.

Hastur’s gaze softened. “Thinking about other things already, too. I see.”

Erica let out a helpless “Uhhm…” and to her relief, they actually both turned to her to pay attention.

“Chefs, before you get started, there’s something you should know,” said Erica.

“We have a few viewer comments that are mostly from our collegues from work, I think. ‘Stop being cute’, ‘how dare you be cute’, ‘stop making out in other people’s kitchen’, ‘fuck romance get on with the butchering and cutting’, and again ‘if you’re being cute again I’m going to scream’.”

Hastur and Ligur looked at Erica with big eyes, then at each other.

“I think someone just issued a new challenge,” said Hastur slowly.

“So we do care what our viewers want now?” asked Ligur with a mocking smile, letting go of Hastur’s tie.

“Didn’t you hear what they said?”

“You bet I did. Hastur, we’re not ditching the cooking duel, but I propose a new challenge on top of it: be so cute they learn how to hate us properly. I mean, those comments were pathetic, right?”

“Right. If they don’t vomit into our direction the moment they see us or offer us some substantical bribes to stop, we clearly haven’t been cute enough.”

“We must be really cute today, Hastur. We’re going to show them.”

“Yeah.”

Hastur looked at Ligur with the onset of panic in his eyes. “But how do we know what to do? What of the things we did were cute? Which ones do we need to ramp up?”

“I’m not sure, Hastur. Maybe everything we did was cute?”

“Ligur, night of my life, I assure you not everything you do is endearing, not even remotely. I would even go so far and say most things you do are not cute at all. Except to me, I guess.”

“I don’t know. Maybe our viewers like the same things you do?”

“They’re not supposed to like it. We need to do the cute things that made them sick, the stuff that’ll get us more hate mail. And we need to play it safe and do the conventionally cute things, too. Things we wouldn’t think of, but that’ll make our viewers throw an axe at the screen.”

“What are those? What’s cute?”

“I have no idea. Erica?”

A very nervous squeal answered them. “I’m single. Very very single. Always been. I’m not the one you need to ask about relationship things.”

“But you keep up to date with modern life. Things change all the time. Did we do something cute without noticing last time?”

“I really really don’t know.”

“Did you think we were cute?”

“… no?”

“Good. Because if we had been cute without realizing, you should have said something.”

“So, any guesses why we get tons of comments accusing us of being cute? What’s so cute about us that people write about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s why I said guess, Erica. What’s your guess?”

“… maybe the hug? Telling him how worthy he is?”

“What’s cute about that? He punched me for it.”

“Maybe my punch is cute,” said Ligur. 

Hastur snorted. “That punch last time was cute. Barely felt anything.”

Ligur chuckled. “Alright, more punching, I was going to do that anyway. What else.”

“Erica says we should hug. And give compliments and such.”

“That’s maybe what Erica thinks is cute. We don’t know if your viewers will find it cute enough to get real angry.”

“We don’t know unless we try.”

“Fine. Why not. But you know I’m not much of a hugger. I’m more a pin-you-down guy.”

“That’s extremely cute, even I have to admit it,” said Hastur and nodded wisely.

Ligur’s cheeks heated up, be he played it cool, as if his eyes wouldn’t betray all he thought anyway. 

“And you’re not a hugger, you’re a clamper. I practically lost circulation in my lower arms the moment you put me in your iron grip.”

“But the viewers hated how cute I am when I do it. I’m definitely doing that again. You could watch me smoke. You know, in a romantic way or something. Maybe they’ll hate that, too.”

“Erica,” said Ligur, in that tone that made Erica pay a lot of attention. “You say you can research things with your thing. Go look what’s considered cute.”

Erica quickly took his ‘thing’ - a modern mobile phone, that rotary phone user Ligur disliked on the default assumption that if Heaven used it, nothing bad could come out of it – out of her pocket and nervously started a search, and then hastily excluded a lot of search terms.

“So, what did you find out? What do people find cute?”

“Err...” said Erica, blinking nervously. “Lots of findings for hugs. All kinds of touches. Looking at each other. Being supportive… that means things like the quality of life and such...”

“There we have it,” said Ligur. “The cute one is you.”

“No!” insisted Hastur. “You’re the one who does the looking. I don’t look at you half as much. And you touch me all the time.”

“That’s not cute.”

“No, that’s horny. That can’t be it. Do you think people find that cute, Erica?”

“Err… actually...”

“What?” said Ligur menacingly.

“… maybe… a bit… when it comes with the longing gazes… ”

“Ligur, we’ve probably been cute for years and didn’t know! No one told us! Why did no one tell us?”

“Hastur, calm down! No one thought we were cute, and do you know why?”

Hastur needed a moment to calm down, but Ligur’s hand on his arm, and the fierce glances Ligur shot him helped. “Why?” he asked.

“Because we didn’t do the cooking! It must be the cooking! If we had been cute before, they would have told us to stop! You’ve seen it, they told us now! They would have told us before.”

Hastur wasn’t fully convinced yet. “But what’s so cute about cooking?”

“It’s not the cooking, it’s how you’re cooking with me, Hastur! When you show me how to do things, when you let me have a taste from your spoon, when you lick something off my fingers, and smile. When we’re having fun with knives. That’s the good shit, Hastur, and they’re all jealous of us having it!”

“Jealous,” said Hastur, sudden understanding glistening in his eyes. “Because I have something that they can’t have.”

“Exactly,” said Ligur proudly. “All the time when we thought we were being a bit embarassing on camera? They think we’re showing off.”

“Are they wrong?” said Hastur, looking Ligur deep in the eyes, smirking, slowly drawing his thumb across Ligur’s lips. Ligur bit him, and Hastur yelled. 

With a clanging noise, the camera fell to the floor. The picture for a moment showed the kitchen tumbling past, but Erica quickly picked the camera up again.

Ligur laughed. “I think we were too cute for Erica to handle,” he said.

+

“Oh, I think we can be much, much cuter than this,” purred Hastur. “You should have told me that this is about making people jealous. It’s like a temptation, right? We’re good at those.”

“Yeah, we got that. We mustn’t forget about the other cute stuff though. I want this to be the cutest episode that we’ve ever made. What’s going on in the highest cuteness levels on your thing, Erica?”

Erica wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to be honest, but retribution for those comments of their collegues certainly was the demonic option, so she went for it. “Pastel colors,” she said. “Fluffy or ruffly clothing. Silk. Anything that’s nice to touch. Short skirts. Cat ears – not real cat ears, it’s a costume thing. Or rabbit ears.”

“You do the ear thing, Erica,” said Ligur. “You need to be cute, too.”

Erica nodded. Being cute wasn’t and had never been a part of Erica’s job description, but she wasn’t going to argue. The whole being cute thing was a bit nerve-wracking, honestly, because not only did she have to supply the ideas, she had a feeling she was also going to have to reign them in. That never ended well with Hastur. 

“Leather is nice to touch,” said Hastur. “Is leather cute?”

“If it’s very soft, and in a light color,” said Erica.

Ligur agreed. “You do the light colors, Hastur, you always do the light colors, they suit you.”

Hastur nodded. “We have an Asian theme today, you can wear silk, something with colors, you’re the type for colors. I mean, not that you need it to be cute. We don’t need to wear things to be nice to touch. We’re already really nice to touch.”

“We know that, Hastur, but the viewers don’t. They need visuals. You could wear a short skirt, show off your legs. We’re going to be so cute, Hastur, people are going to be so jealous.”

Hastur smiled proudly.

Ligur nodded. “Just as long as we’re not sweet. I can be cute, but I draw the line at sweet.”

“Oh, you’re not sweet, don’t you worry,” said Hastur quickly.

Ligur threw a very sceptical gaze at the camera. “Erica, am I sweet?”

The answer came immediately, and with great emphasis: “No!”

Hastur suddenly dropped the smile. “But we need to work with what we find in the kitchen. That’s the conditions of the challenge. If we dress up, we need to do it with stuff from the kitchen, too. I’m not sure they’re going to have a lot of cute things to dress in.”

Ligur smirked. “That’s why it’s a challenge, Hastur. Don’t worry. I’ve seen striped dish towels. Keep the shirt and tie, and wear the towels as a skirt, keep the boots, boom, hot school uniform.”

Hastur pouted. “I don’t know. School uniforms are pretty dull. You see me in a shirt and with no trousers on all the time. I want to wear something nicer than usual.”

Ligur’s smirk got bigger. “But will you find that in this kitchen? You could just wear a knife and a smile. If it’s an Asian looking knife, it’ll even be within the motto.”

Hastur grinned back. “I like that. And for you, you could only wear an apron, I could see if they have one of these aprons people wear in the kitchen, you know, one of these that says kiss the cock.”

“Errr, chefs… you’re going to have to wear clothes,” said Erica. 

“Why?”

“Because I’ll quit if you don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to make another one of _those_ videos. This is a cooking show, you’re going to cook, and if you can cook with your clothes on and be cute while doing so, good for you. If not, there will be no show.”

Ligur scowled. “We can replace you.”

“Good fucking luck with that. I am already the replacement.”

Ligur threw a questioning glance at Hastur. “Really?”

Hastur grinned. “Had to fire the last one.”

“Don’t you have an unlimited pool of assistants?”

Hastur pouted. “Yes, but Erica is still holding one of _those_ videos ransom in the editing process. I guess we stay dressed.”

He sighed, trying to hold on to the grudge, but he knew it wasn’t worth it. “We should have done so anyway. It would give you an unfair advantage if we’re both looking hot, because you get off of that and I don’t.”

“So what?” said Ligur. “As long as they find it cute when I get horny, that counts towards our goal. It’s the two of us against our viewers, not against each other, don’t forget about that!”

“Oh, right.”

“Wait a moment…” said Erica. “Chef Hastur, what do you mean you don’t get off of Chef Ligur’s looks, I mean… you do have eyes… right?”

“Oh no, don’t you start now too, it’s bad enough with the viewer’s questions. Yes, he’s beautiful. I do have eyes, and I have taste. The looks do a lot for me, but not that. Can’t even imagine how I would get anything done, because look at him. Seriously.”

Ligur pulled Hastur’s head down to give him a quick kiss.

“That was super cute, Hastur. Someone in front of the screens is going to die of cuteness today.”

Erica sighed. “I still don’t get it.”

Ligur grinned. “Simple. There’s two kinds of people in this room. Those who are fucking because they’re horny, and those who are horny because they’re fucking.” He laughed when he saw Erica’s face. “See Hastur, we’re still an educational program.”

Hastur wasn’t thrilled. “Erica, you’ve known me almost all your life, how did you not know about this?”

“I just thought you had really good self-control around him,” said Erica meekly.

“I do.”

“He does not,” corrected him Ligur. “Is this still a cooking show? Because I think we should get started with fighting for the oven, or gathering our materials, or both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi SinScrivener, another chapter for the art exchange! If you're still looking for a rarepair challenge, how about one of these: Beelzebub/Dagon/Anathema, or Crowley/Shadwell, or more Hastur/Gabriel?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh, that took a while... no matter how often I tell myself that this is just a collection of loose scenes and needs no internal coherence, I still try to shape it somewhat. Anyways, more fluff with knives!

Hastur wasn’t happy with the findings in the kitchen, and had resigned himself to get creative with the bags of herbal tea he tore apart and noisily ground up in a mortar with some stuff he had fished out of the trash and charred over the gas stove. Ligur was kneading dough with routined movements. 

Nothing they did required much attention, so begrudgingly they allowed some viewer questions.

“Where do you find the people who let you use their kitchens?”

“They’re all people who owe us a favour, and it’s often overdue, so they’re usually pretty quick to say yes when all we ask for is their kitchen for a day.”

“Why do you have to kill every animal you use yourself, and why do it live in the video?”

Hastur and Ligur exchanged a baffled look.

“Because it’s fun,” they said, simultaneously.

“And educational,” added Ligur.

“I’ve got another question about the animals,” said Erica. “You said you’d cook only with the ingredients you can find in the kitchen, or forage within an hour without spending money. Why do you make an exception for meat?”

“Quality,” said Hastur.

Ligur nodded. “Hastur doesn’t like meat from industrial farming.”

“Wouldn’t even feed that to my dogs. And Ligur wanted to learn traditional butchering, so we use traditionally raised animals. Makes sense.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to prepapre an animal for food. How to partition it and all that. I knew Hastur has done that before, so I wanted him to show me, and we made a video of it, because I thought it could be educational for our friends. That was before we started this channel.”

“Educational for you, you mean, because you never listen to what I say.”

“I just get a bit distracted when I see you with a knife and a meat cleaver, up to your ellbows in a dead body.”

“A bit distracted. Right. We’ll never be able to show the first dozen or so videos we made because they’re all in our personal collection, and not for educational reasons.”

+

“Seveal viewers have asked about the ‘job that blew up in your face’ that you’ve mentioned.”

“I don’t even remember. No one tells me what happened. Hastur doesn’t let them.”

“That’s right,” said Hastur firmly.

“I’ve been guessing of course.”

“Ligur, _no_ ,” said Hastur.

Ligur gave him a side glance, but continuted talking. “Judging from how much memory I miss, and how much everyone freaked out, I’d say a heavy blow to the head. It probably looked really bad...”

He was interrupted by a furious Hastur, who grabbed him by the throat and pressed the side of a huge knife to his cheek.

“Shut up, or you can try telling your story with your tongue missing!” snarled Hastur into his face.

Ligur returned his furious gaze without wavering. 

He grabbed Hastur’s wrist of the hand that held the knife and forced it away from his face. Hastur tried to resist, but Ligur was very strong, and forced the arm down. Then, in one rapid move, he shoved Hastur back against the refrigerator, and pressed him in place with his own body.

He whispered things that the microphone’s didn’t quite pick up, and finally, Hastur let go of Ligur’s throat, bent down to put his forehead against Ligur’s. 

“I’m serious about you,” he said. “I’m very serious about you.”

“I know,” said Ligur.

“Don’t play with it. Don’t mock it.”

Ligur put his free hand on Hastur’s cheek.

“Look at me, Hastur. Look at me.”

Hastur looked into his eyes, and after a few moments, Ligur kissed him. 

“Can you go back to cooking, or do you forfeit the challenge and we go somewhere where I can apologize to you for the rest of the day?”

That snapped Hastur out of it.

“In your dreams,” he sneered and stood up to his full height, his mouth out of Ligur’s kissing range. “I’m not forfeiting anything. Let’s do this.”

They returned to their places at the cutting boards, and Hastur, with a grim expression on his face, started cutting some garlic for his mortar at twice the usual speed.

“I have it on camera,” said Erica. “But I can cut this part out of the episode if you want.”

“Leave it in,” said Hastur, paused his work, and heavily leaned on the arm that didn’t hold the knife, looking tired. “Boundaries. You need to set boundaries in a relationship. Especially if your partner is the kind of bastard that would bring up any soul-destroying topic to win this challenge, because he knows he’s sure not going to win by his cooking skill.”

Ligur just grinned.

Hastur’s hand still trembled when he pointed the knife into the camera. “This is an educational program, so I want my viewers to learn not to let themselves pushed around by their partner. Your special someone can learn to behave and in return keep almost all his internal organs. That’s a fair deal.”

Ligur just watched him with a smile on his face.

He pointed the knife to Ligur. “And you owe me an apology, just not now. After the challenge.”

“If you don’t stop waving that knife around, I’ll start apologizing right now,” grinned Ligur, his eyes shining as they followed the knife. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Fuck you, this is a cooking show, I need a knife to cook.”

“To distract me, so you can win.”

“It’s not an either-or, Ligur. But right now, I’d appreciate some fucking self-control on your side. We’re still trying to be cute here. Cooking now, apologizing later. And it better be good.”

“I’m going to be excellent, as always.”

“I certainly hope so, for your own sake,” growled Hastur. “Because the question of what to do with your internal organs can be reopened at any time if I’m not happy.”

+

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SinScrivener, I made two chapters out of the ramblings I had, but you don't have to match them chapter by chapter, because this one is rather short. Hope you have fun reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some backstory! I won't reuse this backstory for other Hastur/Ligur fics, I think, because it's fun to have a different backstory each time. And this one was fun to write!

“A question for Chef Ligur, when did you realize you were in love with Chef Hastur?”

“Hm.” Ligur thought about it for a moment. “Never, I think. I didn’t have any specific L-word-moment. Pretty much everyone who knew us knew it before me. It was actually Daggie, long suffering friend of both of us who one day got so sick of hearing each one of us complaining about the other that she basically declared us a couple out of self-defense.“

“I think our viewers want the whole story,” said Erica. She knew the whole story, she had been there. It was a good one. 

Ligur shrugged. “It’s not as entertaining as it sounds. We were two insufferable bastards making a mess out of the whole thing and suffered the consequences.”

“That is the entertaining part though,” said Hastur. “Everyone likes to hear about other people pining and suffering. And we have the nosiest viewers.”

“Yeah, but is it cute?”

“No,” said Hastur firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s cute in hindsight,” said Erica. And when both chefs looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, she added: “Your cuteness today gets enhanced by being hard won.”

“It sure was hard won. Took me years to get in his pants.”

“And whose fault was that?” rumbled Ligur back.

“The whole story from the beginning?” asked Erica.

Ligur tried to remember. His memory lately wasn’t so good any more, but this story still stood out.

“Let’s see. It’s difficult. We’ve had all kinds of things going on before we actually bundled it all together into one big thing. Where do I even start?”

Hastur made no move to come forward with a suggestion, so Ligur decided himself.

“I’ll skip a few of the gorier parts. Today is about us being cute. So the cute part I think begins when our Boss started organizing departments and we were rivals, always vying for the same promotions.

Hastur was more successful than me. He always came to me and critiqued what I had done wrong, made suggestions for doing better in the future. It annoyed the fuck out of me. That arrogant bastard didn’t even have the decency to try and sabotage me, he was so confident that he didn’t mind giving little unimportant me a pat on the head so I wouldn’t entirely fall behind.”

“It wasn’t that,” said Hastur.

“Yes, yes, I know it wasn’t that. Now I know that. Back then, I didn’t. It never occurred to me that you just wanted a reason to see me. Why would you? It never in a thousand years would have crossed my mind that you could be interested in me, on that personal level. I was not a catch back then, I knew it, people didn’t approach me for a reason, and I myself wasn’t really looking for someone. I was pretty busy and everyone I met was trying my patience way too hard. Including you, very much you.

And then one day I made this huge mistake. This really huge, unnecessary mistake. I pushed forward where I should have retreated. There was no good reason for me to be this stupid, it cost a few good guys their lives and it would probably cost me my carreer. I still feel a chill when I think about it. And at the staff meeting, everyone yelled at me and let me know how bad this was. Everyone but you and the Boss. The Boss was going to, I could see it, after everyone else was done with me. And then there was you, saying not a single word.

I remember looking at you and asking you why you didn’t have anything to say. And you lifted a hand, waited for the room to become quiet, and said: ‘You’re not going to make that mistake again, right? And you took care of the fallout? Then drawing this out is not a good use of my time. It’s done, it’s been handled. What else is there?’

I didn’t really understand what just had happened right away. All I knew was that the Boss had taken notice, and nodded, and I was not thrown out of the room or my job. I was given another chance. I had not expected that. 

I complained to Daggie about it. I complained a lot to her about you, all the time. But this time especially. Why did he do that? And Daggie just said offhandedly, he probably just wants you to suck his dick. And I said, you know what, if he keeps this up, I might.

Daggie couldn’t believe it. He stood up to all these bastards for you, and you still need more before you ‘might’ suck him? 

Yeah, I might, but why? Why does he want that? He can have anyone. Why me?

Daggie said, I really don’t know. You’re annoying as fuck. He must be disastersexual or something.”

“I might be,” said Hastur and grinned. 

Ligur gave him a grim sideglance. “Then you should have dropped a hint back then, because I really didn’t get it. You had been pestering me for years. And it had always been professional. Never, not once, did you even hint at anything sexual. I was so confused. But I had said I would suck your dick, and the thought stuck there, in my head.

I knew you were someone who still saw value in me when I failed. I didn’t understand it, but it did things to me. It sure did.

And from then on, I started watching you. For real. Not just as a competitor. I wanted to know what you’re like, as a person. I realized how weird you are and I thought, this guy’s going to be a ride. And I liked that thought. So I went for it.”

“You did not. You absolutely did not. You drove me insane by staring at me all the time and then never going for anything. I didn’t get it. It was so out of character for you. When had you ever hesitated to do something? I complained to Daggie, too. What does that mean? What does he want?”

“This would have been much easier with any kind of clear signal from your side.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, ugh, that was pretty much all I got. I complained about that to Daggie too.”

“I think we pissed her off.”

“You think so? Are you sure?” said Ligur with an eyeroll.

“Reasonably sure. She locked us into a coffin together with absolutely no promises to let us out ever again unless we ‘stop being idiots, start fucking and declare yourselves a couple. Not a happy couple, because I couldn’t care less at this point, just stop with the pining already’.”

“It was ‘fuck or die’.”

“The fucking was not the difficult part, only for the space constraints. But you made the biggest fuss about the couple part.”

“You can’t blame me for that,” said Ligur grimly. “That it was an option was entirely news to me.”

“It was news to me too. You didn’t look like a couple option, not even to me. But Daggie wasn’t having any of that. She said she wasn’t going through the whole thing again and again until we two sides of the same idiot coin made up our minds, and if we weren’t making up our minds right now, she was going to start piercing the coffin with red hot iron bars. I think she got a bit impatient at that point.”

“Alright, that probably counts as reasonably sure,” grinned Ligur.

“I was actually tempted to see the iron thing in action, but I didn’t want Daggie to have all the fun with this, so I said yes.”

“It helped that we agreed with Daggie. We didn’t have to be a happy couple. I’m not a happy person, I didn’t expect a partner to change anything about that. I just never expected that anyone else would want that. The couple thing without it making me happy.”

“I don’t care about your happiness, Ligur. Never have, never will. Everything else, yes. But not that. What would even be the point?” 

“I appreciate that, Hastur.”

“Any time.”

+

“And a matching viewer question for Chef Hastur: How did you know Chef Ligur is the one?”

“I didn’t. My body did. My body chose him whenever I wasn’t steering.” Hastur hesitated. “I guess this is the kind of gory part that we don’t do on cuteness day.”

“No, no,” Erica insisted. “It’s going to be a good contrast. What you have today is going to look cuter in comparison.”

Hastur snorted. “Alright. That part will probably make anything cute in comparison, I’ll skip anything that’s work-related though, we don’t talk about work here. 

So. 

First time I chose him without knowing happened very early. Many many years before we came together. I was doing these assignments that we call battlefield crawls. They’re about the worst thing I’ve ever done, still don’t like them but now we have a routine. Back then, when I did the first one, I was too soft, it broke me. I came back not speaking to anyone, not seeing or hearing anything, not remembering where I was or who I was. But what my body did was drag me to Ligur and hold onto him. For days. 

When I came to my senses some time later and was in his arms, I didn’t understand how I had gotten there. Ligur didn’t answer when I asked him. I only heard from Daggie and the Boss that I had been looking for Ligur with the very last shread of consciousness.

Daggie says that I was holding onto a ball of rage because no one in his right mind would have dared to disturb me there. Ligur was a bit less polished back then.

So this became a thing then. Whenever I was at the brink of death, or so bad that I wished I was, Ligur saw me through. I didn’t know why. My assignments at that time were so bad that I didn’t remember most of them, and I told myself that during some of the days I had lost, Ligur and I must have become closer.”

“Not really,” said Ligur. “It just got me mad that you would come to me, because I thought you wanted me to kill you. But instead, I wanted to kill everyone who brought you to that state. Seeing you so close to death brought back a protective streak that I thought I had lost. It made me a very complicated person all of sudden. Hadn’t expected that.”

Hastur smiled. “What’s so complicated about that?”

“Everything about you is complicated.”

“But worth it, I hope.”

Ligur sideeyed him hard. “It’s not like I have a choice, you know.”

“Am I supposed to pity you now?”

“Nah. It’s not my style to back down from a challenge, even if it’s personal growth. I used to think I could do without, but you’ve spoiled me. I see the couples who keep it simple, it’s not very exciting. I always think guys, raise your ambitions. Take a few chances. Have some fucking nuance. I’m used to setting my expectations higher.” Ligur chuckled. “I guess back then no one would have predicted that between the two of us, I’d end up the more complicated one.”

“That’s because it doesn’t come natural to you, you had to build it and develop it more. Really think about things. I was complicated by nature. That’s easier.”

Hastur thought about that some more. “I don’t remember much from that time. Did we have sex at any point back then?”

Ligur tilted his head. “Mm, sort of. We both didn’t like it though.”

That silenced Hastur for a while. “I don’t remember any of it,” he finally said. “Is that why you hesitated for us to get together?”

“That was part of it, yeah.”

“Huh. I hope I was doing somewhat better when in a more conscious state then.”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Hastur stopped working his mortar, and stared at Ligur. “It came as a surprise to you? Really?”

Ligur bristled, he did not like the topic, and this kind of stares even less. “What was I supposed to expect?” he snapped. “For years, I’d only been touching you under the worst circumstances. It’s very romantic of you to think that you were holding on to me all that time. That’s not exactly how things went down. You came to me because I was worse than whatever haunted you, and you needed me to prove it. I had to exorcise part of your memory by sheer force, and it was never part of the plan that you’d like me at any point during or after. There was no need for niceties.”

Hastur grinned a very, very proud grin. “You _are_ worse than my nightmares. Why did you think I always came back?”

Ligur scrunched his nose. “To fight your nightmares, sure. But who kisses something that’s worse than their nightmares?”

Hastur put his work down, pulled him close and kissed him thoroughly.

They kissed for a while and a while and finally, Erica turned the camera towards the half-finished preparations on the counter. 


End file.
